


as free as my hair

by sophia_sol



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hair, Nonsexual Physical Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_sol/pseuds/sophia_sol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He still isn't used to having to take care of mundane bodily issues: trimming his nails, showering, eating. He's mostly been ignoring his hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as free as my hair

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to my wonderful beta sentientcitizen.

"Your hair," Steve says one evening. They're having a quiet evening at home, tucked up together on the couch. Bucky glances up from the National Geographic he's reading but doesn't go as far as lifting his head from Steve's shoulder. He touches his hair - yes, it's pulled back into a small ponytail, a few shorter wisps escaping at the front to hang down by his face. Nothing unusual. He gives Steve a questioning look. Steve sighs. "It...looks like it could use some help," he says. He sounds like he's trying to be tactful.

Bucky frowns. Right. He still isn't used to having to take care of mundane bodily issues: trimming his nails, showering, eating. He's mostly been ignoring his hair; he rinses out the sweat and dirt every few days when he remembers to shower. He did that just this morning. He touches his hair again. It feels like hair. Slightly greasy, admittedly, and not the same kind of greasy as hair cream.

"Modern shampoos are really great," Steve tries. "Or you could always get it cut. Shorter hair is much easier to care for."

"I'm not cutting it," Bucky says immediately. He's not sure why he wants to keep the hair. He knows it was never his style before. But maybe that's why. His therapist would probably say something about integration, about accepting that the last 70 years are part of who he is now.

"Shampoo, then?"

Bucky says he'll try.

***

It's four days later when he next remembers to shower. He scrubs himself down efficiently and is reaching to turn the water off when he thinks: hair. He takes a look at the collection of bottles sitting in the little rack that hangs from the showerhead. There's one that's labeled shampoo. He dumps some of the contents on his head, works it in, and sticks his head under the spray of water to wash it out.

It leaves his hair feeling almost sticky - it's hard to run a comb through it after he steps out of the shower and towels off. And when it dries it's frizzy and staticky and unmanageable. He pulls it back into a ponytail with rather more force than usual.

Steve must notice the expression on Bucky's face. He doesn't say anything about the hair.

***

"Natasha says you should be using conditioner after the shampoo," Steve says to Bucky the next day, and hands him a bottle.

"Okay," says Bucky. He sticks the bottle in the bathroom and forgets about it.

***

His hair is pretty greasy again by the next time he gets around to showering. He forgets to use the shampoo or the conditioner.

He forgets the next five times too.

***

He remembers the next time but it's a bad day. He can't face yet another new thing. He rinses his hair quickly and flees the shower.

The time after that he's determined. He hurries through shampooing then dubiously follows the instructions on the conditioner bottle. The conditioner feels strange. When he leaves the shower he can't rid himself of the feeling that he hasn't washed it out thoroughly. His hair feels so smooth it's almost slimy.

He's not sure this is an improvement.

But after his hair dries, he has to admit that it looks nice. And when he runs his fingers through it, it feels nice too.

He still ties it back, because it's annoying when it falls in his face. But he spends the rest of the day absentmindedly touching it. He's surprised every time at how soft it feels.

"Don't you dare say 'I told you so,'" he tells Steve after supper. Steve laughs.

When they've finished doing the dishes they end up on the couch watching a movie. Bucky frees his hair from the pull of the elastic. He sprawls a bit, leaning up against Steve's solid, comforting shoulder. He spends the first half of the movie fiddling with his hair as his sprawl sinks lower and lower. Somewhere along the line he finds himself with his head in Steve's lap and Steve's hand in his hair.

He's not paying much attention to the movie by this point. He's mostly half-asleep, lulled by the giant robots punching monsters and by Steve's fingers moving softly through his hair.

"I like this," Bucky mumbles, because positive reinforcement is useful. "You should do this more often."

"Anytime, Buck," Steve says, his voice warm and his fingers still buried in Bucky's hair. Bucky smiles and lets himself drift the rest of the way into sleep.


End file.
